The King's Shallow Grave
by BrokenHazelEyes
Summary: The blood of the dead swallow Camelot, as Morgana marches on the city, leaving the King to flee or be killed. Led to a small city by Gauis, he finds someone long thought to be dead. How many more will die before he can gain the trust of someone he tried to kill?


Night falling on Camelot wasn't a beautiful thing at all- not with the screams of pain and the stench of rotten and decay in the air. Even the simple severants and townfolk dreaded this time of day. The Knights- the finest the land had to offer- resfused to admit so but their armour seemed a little too tight when they rode out into the dark streets on the run-down stallions from a far away kindgom.

From the King's Bedroom King Arthur- newly crowned- watched out the window as spells and words flew across the battle field. It was the fifth day of the seige, and already he was on bedrest with two broken ribs and a shattered arm. It was suprise that his legs weren't damaged from the fall off his dying horse.

Fire caught on a few trees and quickly spead toward the village. He closed his eyes and prayed that Gauis wouldn't notice the tears on his eyelashes. Luckily, the white haired old man was busy tending to Arthur's burned back. If the man noticed the King's shaking shoulders he did not say anything.

The battle raged on with a vengance, and all the King could do was pray that this would not be his Kingdom's end.

For three years the story of Emrys had spread over the land, the true image of him obscured terribly into something of a elderly man with poor eyesight but the mouth of the most unruly merchant. In reality, Emrys was a young boy with a head too old for his body set upon his slender shoulders.

In the small village on the border of Camelot and Talibu, this image was perfectly intact.

"I don't see why you stay, youngling, if you shan't be happy." A gravely voice, but defiantly female, muttered. Her arms, toughed by years of hard labour, carried a large sack while a young child clung to her skirt.

The boy she was talking to, the all famous Emrys, sighed a response back before taking the grain from her with no rebutle.

"You know why, Alla, I can't go back. Do you wish me to burn at the stake?" The boy smiled at the small child when it look up, frightend, at him.

"Merwin in troubwel?" The young girl warbled with a hint of tears making their way into her glassy brown eyes.

"No, Valy, I'm just special, remember? Not all people like people to be special." Emrys told her gently while hauling the bag up onto his shoulders.

"But you saved mommy, you not evwil!" The young girl aruged back, "They stupiwd!"

"Valy, language," Alla bit back at her granddaughter, "Do you wish the Wolves to come snatch you up?"

Valy did not look amused but stayed silent none the less. Shy and tentivly she plucked at a stray flower before starting to weave it's stem into her hair.

"Merlin, I do not see why-," Alla began but was cut off by a glare from Emrys. Not impressed, she glared back.  
"Don't give me that look, young one, you forget who holds more power here. You hold Magick, I hold an army of Hunters."

Emrys relented with a groan, Alla never did let him forget about the bears and griffin at her sevice at her very call. It was her most prized asset and everyone in the village knew of it.

"I miss Camelot, but the King made his desicion and I stand firm. Do you not wish me to stay here?"

"I wish for you to stop hiding like a newborn babe in his mother's breast." The old woman spat at him, though affection glowed like moonstone in her eyes. "Your destinity-,"

"My entire life is ruled by my destinity! Can't I make a choice?"

"No." Alla starred at him, analyzing each point of his jagged skin. "You'd cause the fall of the Land and Magick as we know it if you were left to make your own desicions. You may be powerful, Merlin," She waited for retaliation, almost amused, but after the silence filled the chilled air, contiuned. "But you know nothing of how to save yourself. Look at your arms, do I need to remind you?"

Emrys looked away in shame.

"My name is not Merlin."

Alla picked Valy up and set her on a bony hip. The young girl clung to her grandmother's neck.

"Say what you wish, Dear, but your name procedes you- both of them. You are Emrys here, yes, but what of Camelot's story of you? You shall always be Merlin- whether you chose to accept it or not."

With the words still warm and foul in the air, Alla and Valy started back toward camp while Emrys heaved the bag back up onto his weary shoulders and followed after them.

His name was not Merlin. Emrys, the all powerful, and the hated, that was it. That part of him was dead and burried away back in Gaius' room far away in the land of War.

By the end of the first week of the seige, the battle was lost. A few Knights survived, and were trying desperatly to get their King to a safe area outside of the city. The Army of Morganna's was marching toward the castle, and they knew there was no chance of survival if they stayed.

Running through the once lovely halls, now decked with blood, was Arthur, Gauis, and a few Knights. Most servants had been slayed when they valiantly tried to defend their homes and families.

Magick was curling in the air, and Arthur could taste it on his tounge.

They were getting closer.

"Get on!" Gwaine hissed as he shoved a one of the dead Knight's horses infront of the King. The Knight himself settled on a pale mare who smacked the ground with her hooves, ready to run. Gauis, still strong for his age, swung himself onto his own horse and adjusted his leather pack that layed heavy on his back.

"Where are we heading?" The King asked, but Gwaine just motioned for the other Knights- ones Arthur could not remeber names for, all the others close to him were laying dead under the enemy's feet.

"A town near the border, Uther used it once as a strong hold in another war. You'll be safe there." Gauis told him half-heartedly, and the other Knights turned confused but Gauis just waved a hand.

"Do you wish to die? We need to get out of the City, before Morgana's army realises that we are no longer in the castle.

So, with that, the small party set off into the inky darkness of Night, and toward a Guais' "stronghold city".

From days away, a pair of amber eyes stared into the lake's surface, before sitting up in alarm.

"_Emrys..."_She called out in her mind, panic flowing fresh through her veins, more poweful than her Seer heritage. "_They're coming... The War tis upon us." _


End file.
